Tales from the Sohoku Road Racing Club: A Team of Two Years
by Die Einzelganger
Summary: Yowamushi Pedal AU where instead of joining Hakone Academy, Arakita Yasutomo enrolled in Sohoku High School, where he turned the lives of everyone around him upside down - for better or for worse. Depends on who you ask and at what time, really, and it just so happens that Onoda Sakamichi decided to ask Teshima Junta and Aoyagi Hajime. (Originally posted on Ao3.) Part 4 of this AU.
1. I

On the third day, just as Junta and Hajime's first interval drew to a close, Onoda stopped by the tent for refreshments.

"Ah, Onoda! Taking a break?" Junta flashed him a smile.

"Yes! …Um, Teshima-san? About the cultural festival you mentioned last night…"

"You want the story?" winked Junta. "We'll tell you… after _tea time_ tonight."

"Thank you so much!" Onoda grabbed a bottle. Junta lowered his eyes.

 _Sorry, Arakita-san… I know I should be nice to the first-years, but your last Inter-high's on the line, and we're going to ride with you and Tadokoro-san, even if it kills us..!_

* * *

Was it karma?

It must have been. Junta had seen it rebound before.

He devised a perfect strategy based on careful observation and analysis. He secured every available advantage, including a five-kilometer lead at a critical juncture. He taunted and teased with impeccable precision, playing his gullible juniors like the world's smoothest fiddle… and just before the finish line, he watched it all shatter as Naruko and Onoda shot forward one last time, leaving him and Hajime behind.

It was his exhausted legs, like always, but when Junta crashed, he could have sworn his heavy heart had dragged him down.

* * *

"Can you stand.. Aoyagi.." he clutched his throbbing thigh. Beside him, Hajime hissed _yes_ through gritted teeth.

" _Move, legs!"_ Junta dragged his knees on the concrete. "We're going to the Inter-high.. with Aoyagi.. _and Arakita-san and Tadokoro-san..!"_

He planted his foot, then staggered as his knee buckled and he collapsed against Arakita, who gathered him and Hajime into his arms.

"Teshima-chan.. Aoyagi-chan.. _It's over…"_ he cradled them close. Junta's heart jolted.

" _But, we—!"_

"You fought well, Aoyagi, Teshima…" Tadokoro embraced them, too. "You were so fierce, you had me _trembling…"_

"Arakita-san.. _Tadokoro-san.."_ breathed Hajime, and Junta couldn't breathe at all.

* * *

His vision blurred, and the world slipped from beneath Junta's feet as Arakita hoisted him over his shoulders.

"Hang on, Teshima-chan…" he held onto Junta, minding his thigh. "I'll take you to the medical office." He then nodded to Hajime, waiting until Tadokoro scooped him into his arms.

"Arakita-san.. I can walk…" whispered Junta.

"I'll take you anyway," replied Arakita as he fell into pace by Tadokoro's side. Junta surrendered with a smile.

 _You haven't changed, Arakita-san.. After all this time, we're still your kids, aren't we…_

 _Has it really been a year since we met?_

 _It feels like yesterday…_

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

Based on Junta and Hajime's backstory from the first series and New Generation, Tadokoro didn't start training them in earnest until after the Inter-high, or the second term of their first year for various reasons, all pertaining to the older seniors being grossly negligent and passing down a bad example. For reasons that will be revealed in the next chapter, Arakita became their first dad, who held them up when nobody else did.

At any rate, even if Arakita hadn't been their protective wolf dad, he would have still been the first senior to react to an injured teammate, on account of his baseball history. Seriously, the others took their time staring and letting their poor juniors pull up their road racers, sheesh.


	2. II

Junta didn't expect miracles when he and Hajime first visited the Sohoku road racing club. Having teetered on the verge of quitting before Hajime glided into his life on the front gate slope, Junta entertained no hopes of becoming a regular, not any time soon; but in the folds of his brand new jersey and the brave smile he plastered onto his face, hope brimmed in cascades despite the indifference of their seniors, whose eyes kept flitting to the door as if waiting for someone, or someone _else._

In fact, the only person who gave the squirming first-years his undivided attention was a menacing second-year perched nearby, his nose crinkling as the third-years barreled through the newcomers' introductions a few impassive comments at a time. After Yaniguchi, who hoped to improve his health, and Hajime, whose choked voice failed to reach anyone, it was Junta's turn at last to make an impression.

"Class One-Five, Teshima Junta."

"Yes!"

"You're so skinny… Your jersey looks new. Are you a beginner?"

"I, uh.. I rode in middle school," Junta clung to his smile. "I thought I could turn over a new leaf with this jersey—"

" _Oh! He's here!"_ excited murmurs broke out among the third-years as they swarmed to a tall, muscular boy in the doorway. "You're Koga, huh?" "We've heard about you!"

Junta's smile crumbled, but before disappointment could sink in full force, another voice grazed his ear, a whisper warm with blood.

" _Sheesh…_ these guys never change."

Junta flinched. One by one, the third-years left them behind for Koga Kimitaka, but the moment Junta willed his jellified legs to move, a hand clamped onto his shoulder, anchoring him in place.

" _Wait._ Turn around, first-years."

Junta, Hajime, and Yaniguchi pivoted on rusty hinges, their hearts in their throats as the unknown second-year rose to his feet and loomed over them with ease.

"Let's try this again," he began, his voice deceptively dull. "Welcome to the Sohoku road racing club. I'm second-year Arakita Yasutomo, all-rounder. I started riding last year. Your turn," his eyes fixed on Yaniguchi, who swallowed.

"I-I'm—"

"Yaniguchi," replied Arakita. He swabbed his nose and sniffed the air once, twice. "You were sick for a long time. Probably years. Something severe… like cancer."

His junior nodded wide-eyed. "Leukemia in remission," he mumbled, his hand instinctively slipping to his baseball cap. "The doctors said I should exercise to recover faster, and my therapist suggested cycling.."

"Recovery, huh," mused Arakita. "We can try."

He turned to Hajime next, whose lips moved without a sound.

" _Haah?_ Speak up. I didn't even catch your name."

"Aoyagi.. Hajime," breathed Hajime, his fists trembling by his sides. "Sprinter…"

Arakita leaned in, nostrils flaring.

"Aoyagi… You've got decent legs and stamina, but everything else is all over the place. Don't worry, though. We'll figure it out."

Finally, he turned to Junta, expression unreadable.

"Teshima.. You're an ordinary guy, but you're real smart, and you're sick of everyone looking down on you," was his verdict.

Junta's jaw dropped.

* * *

For a moment, their eyes fixed on Arakita Yasutomo in utter shock, but his facade remained impenetrable.

"Listen up, first-years," he leaned in, hands propped on his thighs. "I got some bad news, and some good news. The _bad news_ is that right now, nobody else here gives a damn about you three, because that's just the kind of guys the third-years are. From what they said, Koga's strong and talented, and these guys just _love_ golden boys. It sucks, but it's fact. I've seen them do the same thing before, so trust me, I know what it's like."

Junta lowered his head, his chest tight. Arakita clicked his tongue.

"But hey! The _good news_ is that the third-years are incompetent morons anyway, so you're better off with me. _Sure,_ I've never trained anyone before, and I only have a year's worth of experience.. but I know a thing or two about recovery," he glanced to Yaniguchi, "I know it takes time to develop the right pace," his gaze jumped to Hajime, "and I know what it's like to fall short no matter how hard you try," it settled on Junta. "So from now on, unless the other second-years agree to train you, you're gonna be _my_ kids, and if the third-years ever change their minds, they will pry you from my cold, dead hands."

The first-years fidgeted. Arakita barked a laugh.

"You guys are terrified, aren't you! _Man,_ I'm this close to opening a window, your smell is killing me! My nose is really sensitive, you see," he tapped it with a finger. "I can tell what you're thinking and feeling, even if you don't say a thing. Here, I'll show you. Aoyagi," he nodded to Hajime. "You like rice or bread? Think of your answer. Rice.. or bread."

Hajime bit his lip. Arakita sniffed the air.

"I knew it was rice. You could eat that stuff just plain.. but you also like.. a little filling to go with. Something like onigiri. _Yeah,_ I bet you're an onigiri guy."

Hajime found himself nodding along, eyes large. Arakita threw his hands in the air.

" _See?_ I have only one creed, kids, and it's that your scent _never lies,_ so if something's up, I will know. It's no use lying to me, so don't even try. You got that?"

They hummed, tongue-tied. Arakita inclined his head.

"There. Now that we had this talk, are there any questions?"

Yaniguchi raised his hand.

"Where are the other second-years, Arakita-san?"

Arakita cracked a smile at the honorific.

"They're training hard as we speak. Kinjou's the team's ace, Tadokoro's our strongest sprinter, and Yuusuke, Makishima-san to _you,_ is the finest climber in Chiba… And me?" he glanced to Junta, who swallowed his words. "I skipped training to meet the new recruits. Good thing, too, since most of you got stranded."

He reached out and ruffled Junta and Hajime's hair, then tapped Yaniguchi's cap.

"Don't you kids worry. Just stick with me, and you'll be fine."

* * *

In the next three weeks, Junta, Hajime, and Yaniguchi watched in growing despondence as their reality assumed the shape of Arakita's grim prophecies, with just enough variation to muddle the proverbial waters and keep them on their burning toes.

Koga Kimitaka had indeed become the club's young hopeful, someone to envy and despise for being so abundantly gifted, but he didn't prove so spoiled as Junta had known geniuses to be, and Arakita certainly didn't encourage any ill feelings towards him, though he spoke to Koga rarely, and often eyed him with furrowed brows and a troubled expression, as if unable to gauge him despite his omnipotent nose.

Arakita's friends, however, felt so wholly out of the first-years' league as to scare them off for quite some time. Laconic and solemn Kinjou towered above their heads on a pedestal, his eyes set on sights unimaginable from the trenches. Boisterous Tadokoro with his large body and booming laugh could have blown them away in a single breath; and shivers ran down their spines at Makishima's eerie smiles. The three of them ran especially wild around Arakita, a pandemonium of demons and beasts that made the third-years seem like little old men in comparison, yet the latter confused the first-years infinitely more, especially Shiraiwa.

"I see the Big Bad Wolf claimed you for himself," he flashed a jovial grin. "You poor things. Arakita has a horrible temper, and the worst detention record in club history! Oh well… Try not to get on his bad side, and if you need anything, just ask us!"

That's what he said, word for word, but whenever Junta or the others engaged him, Shiraiwa blended acute criticism with vague encouragement and no particular advice, all wrapped in congenial smiles that grew emptier the more they looked at him… yet his words burrowed into their agitated minds, all the more so because Arakita unwittingly proved him truthful. He glowered in the background and lashed out at the slightest provocation; and having heard him spew vitriol at Shiraiwa, it hardly mattered that Arakita never raised his voice at Junta, Hajime, or Yaniguchi. As much as they lived on his blunt encouragement, rudimentary instructions, and clumsily scribbled regimens, all copied from old training journals he had borrowed from Kinjou, the first-years began to dread the day they would finally disappoint Arakita beyond his arbitrary limits.

"Shiraiwa's been talking about me behind my back, huh," he asked them once, just once, and they remained silent except for their hammering hearts. They could tell by the quiver of his nose that Arakita got his answer, and by the bleakness of his gaze that he resented it.

And then the announcement came, and their terror increased tenfold.

"The first-year welcome race will be held this Friday," Shiraiwa told them on Thursday afternoon, leaving virtually no time to prepare. "It will determine your future in this club, so _do your best..!"_

In the end, even their death sentence came wrapped in an empty smile.

* * *

The next day, the first-years warmed up in strained silence, then headed to the starting line, where the second-years awaited them on their road racers, ready to inspire and observe. At Shiraiwa's whistle, they rolled out with Kinjou in the lead, who set a moderate pace until they reached the countryside and the flats swam into view, at which point Arakita pulled to the side.

"This is it, kids! Ride for your lives, but cross the finish line in one piece, you hear me?"

A moment later, Kinjou, Tadokoro, and Koga sprinted off, followed by Makishima, Junta and Hajime, and the recovery van at a discreet distance. Yaniguchi raised his cadence too, but when he tried to pass Arakita, his senior placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're the exception, Yaniguchi," he said, his tone gentle. "You're not strong enough to race yet, so your job is to maintain a steady pace and enjoy the scenery, with occasional assistance from yours truly."

" _Arakita-san…"_ Yaniguchi paled. "But, Shiraiwa-san said—"

"That this race determines your future? _Hah!_ You know what happens if you finish last, or don't finish at all? _Nothing!_ All this race does is tell us how strong you are right now, but I already know that! You beat _cancer,_ Yaniguchi. You _earned_ this tour, so I'm gonna draft for you when you need it, and one day, you're gonna ace this course all on your own. That's a promise."

Some color seeped back into Yaniguchi's cheeks, and when the van rolled up, packed with disapproving third-years, he suppressed a grateful smile as Arakita flipped them off.

Up ahead, Kinjou dominated the race with ease, pursued by an ecstatic Koga. Tadokoro dropped his pace in the mountains, spurring on Junta and Hajime as Makishima ascended like an arachnid menace, but once they reached the downward slopes, the Rampaging Human Cannonball left his juniors in the dust, his roars echoing for miles. Junta and Hajime continued to struggle, too scared of Arakita to stop, and by the time they collapsed in the parking lot of the Kameishi Dam, finishing over an hour behind Koga, the third-years had all but forgotten they even existed.

Arakita eventually arrived with a winded Yaniguchi in tow, to find the place empty save for Makishima, Junta, and Hajime, the first-years huddled on the curb by the vending machine.

"Where are the others?" Arakita passed Yaniguchi a freshly purchased Bepsi.

"They got bored," sighed Makishima. "Kanzaki-san said he'd come back for us, sho."

" _Tch."_

Arakita turned to the others next, handing out free drinks.

"You did well. Congratulations."

He sounded so earnest, Junta gritted his teeth.

" _Just_ _ **stop,**_ _Arakita-san!"_ he snapped, exhausted beyond pride and self-preservation. _**"You don't have to humor us anymore!**_ We're weak and pathetic! _We've known it all along!_ The third-years were _right…_ We'll never be as good as Koga or anyone else, so _just mind your business and_ _ **stop wasting your time!"**_

Arakita froze. His hands clenched into fists.

" _Yuusuke.._ take a stroll."

* * *

As soon as Makishima walked out of earshot, Arakita turned on the first-years cowering on the curb.

" _Humoring you?"_ his eyes rained lightning. "You really think I'm just _humoring_ you? I thought you were smarter than this, Teshima! I'm your _senpai,_ remember? Looking after you is _my goddamn job!"_

"But nobody else does this except _you!"_ retorted Junta. "We've talked to everyone, from Shiraiwa-san to Kinjou-san, and they all told us to get stronger on our own! We're just slowing you down! _We're not worth your time,_ Arakita-san..!"

Arakita's jaw fell.

" _Oh my god…"_ he breathed, eyes large. "I can't believe this.. I thought it was obvious..! _I'm a_ _ **fucking idiot!"**_ he clutched his head. "Don't you kids realize what's going on?! _Everyone's been bullshitting you, even my friends!_ You seriously thought we got this strong all by ourselves? It's a _fucking lie, and_ _ **I'll prove it to you!**_ Which second-year is the strongest, huh? Everyone vote, and don't even try to flatter me. Strongest, come on."

"It's the ace… Kinjou-san," replied Yaniguchi.

"Kinjou-san," nodded Junta. Hajime's lips twitched open and closed.

" _Huh?"_

"T-Tadokoro-san..!" blurted Hajime, eyes gleaming. "Tadokoro-san.. is the _strongest!"_

"Heh… spoken like a true sprinter," Arakita patted his head. "Alright, quiz time. Last year, we went on a four-day training camp. Who aced the menu? Kinjou, Tadokoro, both, or neither?"

" _Both,"_ they replied in chorus.

"Wrong," said Arakita, bitter as bile. "Tadokoro gave up on day two, and Kinjou injured his leg. If I hadn't stopped him, he wouldn't be our ace anymore."

They stared at him thunderstruck. Arakita's eyes fell.

"I'm sorry I never told you about our first year, but it was fucking _awful._ Everyone fawned over Kinjou and abused the rest of us, and if we hadn't been there for each other, we would have crashed, _Kinjou included._ Now that we're finally seniors, everyone's pretending like we never needed help or support, but they're _wrong,_ and they're wrong about _you!_ They're acting like _Koga_ is the future, _but_ _ **you're**_ _ **the future, too!**_ One day, you're gonna be a brilliant strategist," he pleaded trembling Junta, "or an amazing sprinter," he turned to flushed Hajime, "or a strong, reliable expert," he stopped at wide-eyed Yaniguchi, _"and I refuse to give up on you_ _ **like everyone had given up on me!"**_

Silence fell around him. Arakita blanched.

" _Why are you crying?"_ he dropped to his knees in front of his stunned juniors, hands flailing in plea. "Was I too loud? What did—"

The next moment, Junta pushed himself away from the curb and threw his arms around Arakita's neck, squeezing entirely too hard. Hajime and Yaniguchi joined in on the other side, trapping their senpai in a convulsive tangle.

"What're you doing..?" Arakita tensed beneath them. "You hate me so much you're gonna strangle me..?"

"It's a _hug,_ Arakita-san.." breathed Junta. "We're hugging you…"

Hajime and Yaniguchi nodded wordlessly, shoulders quaking. Arakita slumped in relief, and a moment later, he gathered his crying kids into his arms.

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

When he became a second-year, Arakita promised himself he would outdo Shiraiwa and everyone else as a senior, no matter what it took, and with few applicants coming in, he was genuinely frustrated at the third-years' lack of interest. Hakone Academy's groomed and trained Arakita could afford to pick and choose from their horde of new recruits, but Sohoku's neglected and angry Arakita is a whole different story.

After he met the first-years, Arakita talked to Makishima, Kinjou, and Tadokoro, telling them briefly about the kids, and asking his friends to look out for them. Unfortunately, Kinjou already committed himself to training Koga, and Makishima and Tadokoro were too much for the first-years to handle with their unique personalities and riding styles, so Arakita was left to his own devices for a long time. Still, with a year's worth of road racing and youkai experience, he supported his kids the best he could, and doubled his own extra training to make up for the time he spent with them.

Makishima got the biggest grin on his face when the first-years ambushed Arakita in a hug. He was incredibly proud, and even a little covetous, perhaps, but he let them have their moment until the van pulled up to take everyone back. Yaniguchi grew weak and dizzy by then, so Arakita walked him to the van and let him have the front seat, then had Junta and Hajime take the middle row, while he and Makishima settled into the back, sitting suspiciously close to each other.

They stopped by a drive-thru restaurant on the way to grab some food, mostly on account of Yaniguchi. Arakita and Makishima both ate one-handed for some reason (they were secretly holding hands the entire time), occasionally fed each other french fries, and shared a lot of smiles and laughs despite saying little, but Junta and Hajime merely supposed they were just really close friends, and honestly, teammate goals. Ah, the naiveté of youth.


	3. III

News of the second-years' retirement only reached Onoda and Naruko once they stopped for the night, and expert witness Sugimoto informed them of Junta and Hajime's tragic finish. Sugimoto ended up sprinting after his frantic friends, who rushed off to the medical office, then crumbled to a halt when they glimpsed their bandaged seniors in the corridor, Arakita sitting between them with his arms around their shoulders.

"Perm-senpai! Quiet-senpai!" Naruko stumbled forward to close the distance, eyes large. "You're _hurt!_ …Did we do that to you..?"

Beside him, Onoda wrung his hands. Defeated, Junta shook his head with a smile.

* * *

"Arakita-san," he said at last, "can you take a stroll..?"

Arakita laughed, but he squeezed Junta and Hajime's shoulders and unraveled his arms, then rose with a stretch.

"Sure… if you need me, just call," he tapped his jersey's back pocket. The second-years nodded. Arakita flashed a tired smile.

"See ya later, kids," he tapped the first-years' heads on his way out. Junta hung his head with a pained grin.

"Supportive senpais sure are nice, huh? Maybe we should try harder, Aoyagi…"

Hajime hummed.

"Well, here goes," Junta glanced up at their nervous juniors. "You were amazing out there. Congratulations."

* * *

"Teshima-san… Aoyagi-san…" mumbled Onoda.

"I mean it," smiled Junta. "We planned this so carefully, but in the end, you three managed to surprise us. Especially Onoda. You high-cadence climb was so fast, it should be illegal."

Onoda's eyes gleamed. Junta clenched his jaws.

"I _mean_ it, but I'm still disappointed… I feel like _my heart_ got ripped out.. But how I feel won't change the results. Now it's up to you guys!" he lurched to his feet and smacked his fists against Onoda and Naruko's chests. "Put Arakita-san and Tadokoro-san on the podium this year, _or I'll never forgive you!"_

* * *

Exhausted, Junta sank back, his eyes falling to his bandages.

"Can you believe we actually survived camp last year, only to fail this one..?" he whispered to Hajime, who rubbed a hand over his back. The first-years exchanged stunned glances.

"Does that mean you finished the menu last year?" gasped Sugimoto. Junta shook his head.

"We didn't, but we rode until the end, and made Arakita-san proud… And now we crashed and dropped out, and he's still proud. He really is too soft.."

Onoda seemed to hesitate. Junta smiled.

"You're curious about last year's camp, aren't you."

Onoda nodded wide-eyed.

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

Yes, Sugimoto actually rode with Naruko and Onoda and challenged the second-years as the fifth rider. He fell behind in the end, still too much of an "experienced rider" to be reckless in the dark, but he put up a good fight, and felt justified when he saw what happened to the second-years, even if he had regretful pangs later when he realized he could have won a Sohoku jersey, if he had been just a little braver. He also rode until the very end of camp, instead of stopping because of the rain. Like the second-years before him, he was adopted by Arakita, who managed to get through to him enough to push Sugimoto along.

Arakita waited outside the medical office, then bought his kids a Bepsi each. They had a silent drink together, and if the first-years had come earlier, they could have seen the three of them chug in perfect sync.


	4. IV

What Arakita said at the first-year welcome race saved Junta, Hajime, and Yaniguchi.

Shiraiwa's hold on their imaginations shattered, along with their misconceptions of the second-years. Where the first-years had once presumed god-given talent, they now admired the results of perseverance and the power of bonds between teammates, and in such a light, they finally recognized Koga as one of their own, though he remained buried in the third-years' gold and glitter. Having found another friend in him, and steadfast support in Arakita, the three of them no longer dreaded practice like they used to, and so when Shiraiwa announced the upcoming four-day training camp with no further specifics than its date and venue, Junta, Hajime, and Yaniguchi skipped their usual panic, and turned to their senpai straight away.

"Alright, listen up, kids," Arakita began once they settled down at his favorite restaurant, a mountain of karaage between them. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything, cause _adapt to unexpected challenges and all that,"_ he rolled his eyes, "but I don't believe in this _keep 'em guessing_ shit, so let's talk about camp. The most important thing is the menu, which is to complete one thousand kilometers in four days."

The first-years stared at him bewildered, lips twitching in silent calculation.

"Sounds impossible, right?" smirked Arakita. "Wait, it gets _better!_ Your bikes might get modified as an extra challenge, though you guys are probably safe, and I'd kill anyone who handicapped Yaniguchi… and unlike the welcome race, the stakes are actually high this time. The first six guys to ace this camp will form our team at the Inter-high, where the top twenty schools compete to become number one in Japan. Any questions?"

Yaniguchi raised his hand. "Did Arakita-san make it last year?"

"I dropped on the third day, and so did Yuusuke," replied Arakita. "I blame the equipment."

"So none of you…"

"That's right, and I was actually doing great before fate screwed me over. Remember this, kids," Arakita furrowed his brow. "No matter how strong you are, there's no guarantee you'll make it. Everyone's saying Koga can do it, but that's what they said about Kinjou last year, and you know how that went. The higher the expectations, the worse the pressure. Because of that, I'm actually more worried about Koga than you three."

"Kimitaka…" whispered Junta. Arakita reached out and ruffled his hair.

"But none of that matters anyway," he carried on, "because _your_ goal isn't a thousand kilometers, or going to the Inter-high. Not cause I don't believe in you!" he added when their faces fell. "But because focusing on that _won't help you._ If that's all you think about, and your daily laps just don't add up, you're gonna crack like Tadokoro, and if you push yourself too hard, you might hurt yourself like Kinjou. _No,_ kids, I'm a rational guy, so I'm gonna set you rational goals. Your mission for this camp is to _survive the entire thing,_ and I'm gonna tell you why."

* * *

"First, Yaniguchi," Arakita turned to him. "You're still recovering, so set a slow, steady pace, and focus only on getting exercise. If you're out of breath, stop and catch your breath. If you have to get off and push your bike on the slopes, that's fine. And if you need to rest, take an interval, and never, _ever_ ride without water, food, or your phone, got it?"

Yaniguchi hummed.

"Oh, and enjoy yourself," Arakita added with a grin. "You can ride at sunrise and sunset, there's gonna be a lot of color, smells, bird song and all that, and if you take it all in, you'll feel better, and you'll last longer. We clear?"

Yaniguchi nodded with a smile. Arakita turned to the others next.

"Teshima, Aoyagi," his tone sobered once again. "I know it's harsh, but I want you to forget about going to the Inter-high this year."

Junta and Hajime hung their heads, shoulders hunched.

" _Hear me out, okay?"_ Arakita nudged them. "I know you kids want more than this, and you deserve better, but there's _no shame_ in not making it in your first year. You know, like _we_ didn't? Hell, you know what's actually shameful? Giving up halfway, _that's_ shameful. Wrecking yourself out of pride, _that's_ shameful, and there's no bigger shame than refusing to learn from the past, so this year, you're gonna focus on the _training_ part of camp."

He looked to Hajime first. "Aoyagi, you know what you need to work on, right?"

"My pacing," whispered Hajime.

"That's right. If your pacing sucks, no amount of stamina will save you. You have four days, and the course is like five kilometers long. After ten laps, you'll know it like the back of your hand, so learn to adjust and control your pace, got it?"

Hajime nodded. Junta held his breath as Arakita turned to him.

"Last but not least, Teshima… You're a smart guy, so your job is to watch, and learn."

"Watch and learn..?" Junta quirked a brow.

"You heard me. Everything affects you in some way as you ride. The course, the weather, your form, your equipment, your condition, _everything,_ so I want you to think about all that, and figure out how to deal with it. Watch the others, too, and not just the strong guys, either. Whenever someone's riding nearby, pick 'em apart like you're some road racing critic, and learn from them, understand?"

Junta nodded fervently.

" _Good._ And remember, no matter what, you got me, and you got each other, so never give up, kids. Look out for one another, and if you get in trouble, call me. Oh, and one more thing," Arakita cracked a grin. "Ride all day, every day until the very end, and you'll be more impressive than any of us were in our first year, including our ace… so, what do you say?"

The first-years exchanged excited glances.

" _We'll do it, Arakita-san!"_

"There ya go! Now eat, the food's getting cold."

" _Yes, sir!"_

* * *

Come the first day of June, camp started without any handicaps this time, and no one was surprised when only Koga was told to finish one thousand kilometers. Though the third-years' bias stung, it could no longer discourage the first-years, who exchanged determined glances and set off in comfortable silence, broken only once Koga pulled up to them in the afternoon.

"Junta, Hajime! Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead, if you don't mind the pace," winked Junta.

"You could go faster. Why don't we race? Just until the finish line," Koga flashed a grin, but Junta shook his head.

"Sorry… we've got our hands full as it is. Maybe some other time."

Koga's face clouded at once.

"You sound just like him," he furrowed his brow.

"Who?"

" _Arakita-san,"_ scowled Koga. "I asked him to race me earlier, and he refused. He always refuses!"

"The menu is one thousand kilometers in four days, Kimitaka. Maybe he just wants you to focus on that," replied Junta. Koga shook his head.

"I'm supposed to ride as hard as I can! Everyone else told me to challenge them except him! It's just like Shiraiwa-san said. Arakita-san acts tough, but he's all talk and nothing else."

Junta frowned, then blinked as he caught Hajime's angry whispers.

"Arakita-san.. is _strong."_

"That's right," Junta squinted at Koga. "You don't know him like we do, Kimitaka. Arakita-san probably refused because he's worried about you."

"He's _worried_ alright, that I'm _stronger_ _than him!"_ sneered Koga. "But he can't run from me forever. If Arakita-san doesn't hurry, I just might take his spot on the Inter-high team! _Yes…_ taking his spot will be my birthday present!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Kimitaka," warned Junta. "You have to finish the menu first."

"I _will._ Just you wait," grinned Koga, and since his friends wouldn't budge, he burst forward with a kick and disappeared beyond the curve.

With some variation, that scene repeated over and over again, but wolf and cubs alike remained beyond the reach of provocation. Despite sparing time for his three first-years, Arakita continued to ace his daily quota, and supply Koga with more tales of rejection. Yaniguchi ignored the third-years' condescending smiles and pushed his road racer on the slopes, seeking solace in the skies and verdure. Junta and Hajime, too, concentrated on their respective tasks, and though they often despaired of their progress, the safety net Arakita had woven for them proved durable, sustained by their growing camaraderie and their senior's constant vigilance.

They hardly dared believe it, but on the fourth day, Arakita smelled them after breakfast and confirmed they still had something to give, and their aching bodies would last at the right pace, even Yaniguchi's… and their shock grew greater still when Arakita snagged elusive Koga in the hallway, sniffed him, and said,

"Your leg's gonna give out soon. Don't ride anymore."

"What are you talking about, Arakita-san?!" Koga glared him down. "What do _you_ know?"

"More than you," came the laconic reply.

* * *

Wounded in his pride, but wary of openly defying a senior, Koga waited until Arakita started riding, then took off with several kilometers between them. Junta and Hajime eventually caught up and urged him to stop, but Koga threatened to never forgive them if they told on him… until his leg seized up with only a hundred kilometers left, and his limits sank in like searing hooks yanking at his knee.

Sensing trouble, Junta and Hajime persuaded him to take an interval at the tent, where Koga's tremors gave him away, and while everyone fussed over him, Arakita arrived at last and swerved to a halt in front of him, blocking his path. Koga set his jaws, face convulsing as Arakita stepped over and grabbed his junior's handlebars.

"I told you. It's over, Koga," his voice rang unnervingly final. Koga gritted his teeth.

" _You're_ _**wrong!**_ I'm _fine!_ I'm the _Stamina Freak!_ A little pain can't stop me!"

"Get off your road racer! That's an order."

"And if I don't?!"

"Then you'll end up just like me and _injure yourself!"_ snapped Arakita. "I know what I'm talking about, Koga! I've been there, _done that,_ and already paid the price _so you don't have to!"_

" _ **I can do this!"**_ Koga jolted his road racer in a futile attempt to break free. "I'm strong, and I'm _almost there!_ _Not everyone's_ _ **weak and unfortunate like you!"**_

The air froze around them but for the panicked murmurs of the third-years. Arakita's hands clenched and unclenched over the handlebars, and when he gripped them again, shivers ran down Junta's spine.

"When I became a senior, I promised myself I'd never hurt my juniors in any way," he said at last, his voice distant. "That I'd never hold them back, and I'd be the most supportive jerk around. But if you don't get off right now, I'll punch you off your bike, Koga. I'll do it, because in the long run, hating my guts will hurt you a lot less than hating yourself for destroying your promising high-school career. Last year, I saved Kinjou from wrecking himself, and I'm gonna save you too."

Koga shot a horrified look at Kinjou, who lowered his head with a nod. The world swirled before Koga's eyes.

"Off you go," he heard Arakita say. Koga's hands trembled, then fell from his road racer.

" _But I was_ _ **so close!"**_ he begged despite himself, his face burning in wet streaks.

"I know.." Arakita squeezed his shoulder. "You lasted way longer than Kinjou. Congratulations."

As Koga broke down, two third-years took his arms and guided him away. Arakita shook his head at their shrinking forms.

"What a shitty birthday present. _Sheesh,"_ he turned on the rest, teeth bared as he pulled up and mounted his Bianche. "You got _**one**_ _ **kid**_ _and_ _ **you fucked up! YOU IDIOTS!"**_

He rolled to a stop near his pale first-years. "You three still doing okay?"

They hummed, too overwhelmed to speak. Arakita sighed.

"Good… Come on. Camp's almost over."

* * *

Three hours later, Makishima finished sixth, completing the Inter-high roster, and once everyone else returned, including the three first-years, camp officially ended. All that remained until Koga's birthday dinner was a mysterious seniors' meeting at the third-years' request, and unable to resist, the first-years snuck after them to eavesdrop by the door, Junta supporting a bandaged Koga by the arm.

They held their breaths. Inside, Shiraiwa cleared his throat.

"Since it's Koga's birthday, we propose a consolation gift for his efforts. Hamano has offered to let Koga take his place on the Inter-high team to gain experience for next year. All in favor?"

Outside, Koga gasped in triumph… and the next moment, his blood curdled as Arakita howled,

" _ **NO!"**_

Several seconds passed.

" _Oh?_ What's your objection, _Arakita-kun?"_

"My objection?!" snapped Arakita. " _Let's see!_ One, _he's_ _ **injured!**_ Two, he didn't complete the menu.. you know, _cause he got_ _ **injured?**_ And three, he ignored his senior's warning and kept riding.. _until he got_ _ **injured!**_ _He could have_ _ **ruined his knee, dammit!"**_

Kinjou hung his head. Arakita huffed.

"And another thing, Shiraiwa. Koga doesn't know the meaning of the word _casual._ Everyone's gonna be riding for their lives at the Inter-high, and if you think he'd just sit back and observe, you're _nuts!_ If anything happened, Koga would never hold back. _I know,_ cause _he's exactly like me,_ but unlike me, he doesn't have to pay the price for being stupid, so don't you dare sign him up for _anything_ while he's injured!"

" _Arakita,_ I really think you worry too much—"

" _ **Shiraiwa,**_ if you don't back down, I'm reporting you for putting your junior at risk. _**Try me,"**_ Arakita snarled.

An eternity later, Makishima joined in.

"I agree with Yasutomo, sho. It's too risky to let someone with a recent injury ride competitively for three days in a row, sho."

"I have to agree, too," spoke Kinjou, just another dagger in Koga's heart. "We cannot ignore the risks and Koga's condition. I'm sorry, but I cannot endorse this."

"I'm with you, too," Tadokoro folded his arms. "Koga's talented, and he's still got time. Once he heals, he'll have plenty of chances to gain experience."

Shiraiwa snuck hopeful glances at his fellow third-years, but Kinjou's words had shaken them silent. Shiraiwa heaved a sigh.

"Have it your way yet again, Arakita…"

" _Thank you very much,"_ Arakita's words dripped with disdain. "And _thank god_ you called a private meeting before you might have ruined his birthday dinner with this crap. _Sheesh."_

Outside, Junta risked a glance at Koga and paled at his contorted face.

" _Kimitaka…"_

"I _knew_ he hated me," hissed Koga.

"He doesn't..!" whispered Junta. "He wants to protect you..!"

" _ **Protect me?!"**_ Koga's voice shot through the roof. _**"I'm nothing like him!**_ _**I'm strong,**_ _ **so he's afraid of me!"**_ he tore away from Junta's hold and limped off.

Silence fell. They braced themselves, but nobody moved.

"Sounds like you ruined his birthday either way, _Arakita-kun,"_ they heard Shiraiwa jeer.

This time, Arakita didn't reply.

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

Though Arakita carried his phone with him for the entirety of camp, he received no calls. Once his kids learned to see training camp as an opportunity to grow stronger instead of a zero-sum game, they managed well on their own, and Arakita passed them enough times to nudge them along. For his task, Junta packed a notebook and pen, and recorded his observations during intervals; he also dedicated several pages to Hajime in the hopes of helping with his pacing. The three spent their evenings looking over Junta's notes, Koga sometimes joining in.

Kinjou was the first to complete the menu, and Arakita came in third. He could have finished earlier, but since he stopped to deal with Koga, then started compulsively checking on his first-years, a third-year managed to gain on him. Meanwhile, the first-years' results were as follows:

Koga - 900 km  
Hajime - 805 km  
Junta - 775 km  
Yaniguchi - 395 km

Although the atmosphere grew heavy and awkward after Koga was forced to retire, once the roster was complete and the first-years came in one by one, Arakita greeted each of his surviving kids with a victory roar of "YOU DID IT! YOU SURVIVED! THAT'S MY KIDS!", then told them who they managed to beat with their kilometer count. Hajime actually got dizzy when he learned he passed first-year Kinjou's final results, Junta cried when he found out he tied with Kinjou, and Yaniguchi couldn't stop grinning at the idea that he beat first-year Tadokoro's results by a landslide. Arakita's friends were good sports, so they waited by the tents and shook hands with the first-years, then patiently listened to Arakita brag about them. It was their happiest moment at camp, and because the third-years were too embarrassed to stick around, there was nobody to spoil the juniors' fun for a little while.


	5. V

"Koga-san… _Arakita-san…"_ whispered Onoda.

"What a terrible birthday, huh?" Junta's smile peeled away. Hajime hummed.

"Question," Naruko lifted a hand. "Koga-san sounds like he was angry at Arakita-san from the get go. What's up with that?"

"It's complicated," began Junta, "but Kimitaka thought Arakita-san disliked him because he was the only senior who wasn't fawning over him. Arakita-san was busy coaching us, of course, but the third-years made it seem like he was this biased tyrant, so Kimitaka felt cheated and even envied us for getting _the most powerful senior._ It was a mess. The dinner, too…"

Hajime hummed louder.

* * *

 _Junta saw nothing of his senpai after that meeting, and as the third-years swarmed around Koga at dinner, making apologetic chit-chat laced with avid praise for him and snide jabs at Arakita, his three kids gradually slipped away, too._

 _They loitered in the dark for a while, till they spotted a familiar figure heading towards the stadium. Ever so curious, they stalked after Makishima, who somehow knew exactly where to find Arakita._

" _You should come down," he handed his friend a Bepsi. "It's getting cold, sho…"_

" _It's easier to breathe up here," replied Arakita, and secretly, Junta agreed with him._

* * *

" _They got to you, didn't they, sho."_

" _Nah… I'm a heartless jerk, so nothing gets to me."_

" _Liar," Makishima put an arm around him. "Come on. Let's go down, sho."_

" _You go. Get some rest…"_

" _Can't go."_

" _Why not?"_

" _Need my blanket, sho."_

" _You want a wet blanket?"_

 _Makishima whispered something and they dissolved into chortles for a while, nudging back and forth until Arakita caved at last._

" _Fiiine…"_

 _He stopped after two paces. "Hang on…_ **Yo, kids!"**

 _The first-years yelped behind their cover and poked their heads out, faces flushed._

" _You three lead the way," smirked Arakita._

" _Y-Yes sir..!"_

* * *

"Oh my… did you get in trouble?" asked Sugimoto.

"Nah," smiled Junta. "Arakita-san could probably tell we were worried about him."

"Did Koga-san ever forgive Arakita-san?" chimed in Onoda, evidently anxious for a happy ending.

"He did, after the Inter-high."

" _Oh?_ What happened at the Inter-high?" grinned Naruko. Junta scratched the back of his head.

"Um.. you should probably ask Makishima-san or Tadokoro-san… We were stuck on the sidelines, so we hardly saw anything… Oh, I know! Why don't I tell you our favorite moments, and then about the cultural festival? You asked about it earlier, right?"

Onoda twinkled _Yes._

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

Shiraiwa jokingly told Arakita he could still allow Koga to ride, but instead of saying anything, Arakita slowly rose from his seat and clenched his pitching hand. Though the Scourge of Sohoku never told on him, rumors soon spread that a scary first-year broke his jaw, and because Arakita fit the description, the equivalent of Kill Bill sirens went off in Shiraiwa's head at the sight of his fist. They finalized the roster and sent in their registration form five minutes later, putting an end to all discussion.

Even though Arakita knew he was right, he ended up skipping dinner altogether to let Koga have his cake in peace, and would have probably starved that night had Makishima not taken care to save a portion of everything for him, including some cake. Arakita declined the cake, but not wanting to upset anyone, he fed some to Makishima with a fork, then gave the rest to his kids for surviving camp and for caring enough to look for him.

You probably guessed, but Makishima whispered, "Wet in what way, sho?" in his dirtiest voice. Thankfully, Arakita wasn't drinking, or he would have choked on his Bepsi. There was a lot of amorous cuddling that night, which Arakita excused as "I'm an emotional mess and Yuusuke's comforting me." Kinjou and Tadokoro let it slide just this once.

Kinjou managed to undo some of the evil of the third-years' retaliatory smear campaign by drawing Koga aside after dinner to request that Koga be their mechanic at the Inter-high, and vouching for Arakita by relating his own story, and urging Koga to make peace with his senior and heed his advice because Arakita was an expert in his field. Koga did his best to obey Kinjou, but still ignored Arakita for the rest of the term except for direct orders, too bitter to forgive him.


	6. VI

It all began with the Inter-high preliminaries in May, but Junta decided not to bore his juniors with the details. In their time, both years experienced the same thing: they watched mesmerized as Arakita, Tadokoro, and Kinjou took turns pulling the Sohoku train, and in the end, they all cheered in ecstasy as Arakita bolted across the finish line - "the assistant's treat," as their seniors called it, and Sohoku's way of impressing upon local competitors that until they found an ace talented and brave enough to go toe-to-toe with the Daredevil, they would not stand a chance against Chiba's strongest road racing club. Of course, the current first-years had no idea that the spectacle they had witnessed carried a much deeper meaning than the year before, but for their sakes, for _His_ sake especially, Junta thought it best to leave out the symbolism.

However, something their newest recruits were also oblivious of, and what Junta knew would bring them much delightful anticipation, was what he and Hajime still referred to among themselves as the Omamori Festival.

That summer, with only seven days remaining of the spring term, Arakita showed up to practice not on his Bianche, but an old rental road racer. The change seemed to surprise everyone except Makishima, but soon enough, Kinjou and Tadokoro began to exchange knowing glances as well, which confused those in the dark even more, and positively infuriated Koga, who had been appointed as the mechanic of the Sohoku Inter-high team, and was determined to spend the rest of the term studying their road racers to guarantee optimal performance for all members.

He was soon reassured by Kinjou that Kanzaki-san would allow him to practice on a near-identical Bianche at the shop, and by his fellow first-years that they were equally clueless in the matter, but Koga continued to suspect wanton selfishness and personal bias, until they arrived at the assembly area in Hiroshima, and the doors of Kanzaki-san's delivery van flew wide open, revealing Arakita's secret.

Inside, they glimpsed six road racers, five of which had been fastened into the back uncovered, while what they presumed was the Bianche had been completely wrapped in a translucent plastic cover. Only after carefully handing down the Bianche did Kanzaki-san remove the plastic, and what he unveiled took the first-years' breath away.

They had never seen anything like it. From the handlebars to the rear spokes, and down the length of the entire frame, the Bianche had been covered in omamori shrine-bought and handmade, of all shapes, sizes, and colors under the warm Hiroshima sun.

"I uh, I have some fans at school, and I let them have a little fun," was all the explanation Arakita offered, and though Koga huffed in disapproval, mostly at the thought that the actual ace of the team received no such distinction, all Junta and Hajime remembered were own their soaring hearts, the camera flashes of intrigued reporters, and the envious looks of other athletes as Arakita showcased his Bianche.

* * *

The tournament itself dwarfed the preliminaries in every respect. Confronted by the scale and atmosphere of a national event, and the excitement that continued to mount and surge through its massive audience, Junta and Hajime could do little else than marvel at the relative composure of their seniors, while they themselves gaped like a pair of mackerels out of the water.

As they unpacked, the first-years caught the reigning champions marching through the crowd like a regiment on parade, exuding confidence and gravitas afforded only by the most prestigious road racing club in Japan… and within five more minutes, they suffered conceptual whiplash as Hakone Academy's young Mountain God began his loud and desperate pursuit of Sohoku's most elusive member, crying "My fated rival! Makishima Yuusuke! _Stop running!_ _**Maki-chaaan!"**_ as he chased an embarrassed Makishima around the assembly area. ("I guess even prodigies are human, somewhere.")

An hour later, they attended the opening ceremony with mixed feelings, uselessly wishing one of their own could have graced that podium in any capacity, any at all… and that very day, their wish was granted when Makishima Yuusuke was called onto the stage to accept the red climber tags he had won with Arakita's assistance, who decided to reprise his infamous performance from last year's Nagatoroyama Hill Climb, and carried Makishima to the front lines, launching him ahead of every other climber, Toudou Jinpachi included. Of course, the first-years only heard the tale in the afternoon; for better or for worse, they had spent most of the tournament in the various feed zones and the road between them, where the only excitement to be had was their teammates closing in for supplies.

For his part, Koga continued to openly resent his banishment to the trenches, but even he beamed with pride as he handed Kinjou his musette bag and cheered him on with everything he had. Hajime was much the same with Tadokoro, while Junta gravitated towards Arakita and Makishima, and all in all, their time was agreeably spent on the first two days, when hope and progress were most evenly matched, and friendly banter filled the feed zone despite their own latent competition of who could support their team better from the sidelines. Koga in particular seemed to thrive on this limited form of rivalry, and though he never said so, Junta could tell he had more fun boasting of Sohoku's talented ace than privately booing his tyrannical assistant.

And then, things changed drastically. By the end of the second day, most of the pack had been culled by exhaustion, mischance, or the time limit set by the organizers, which left the survivors and their support staff in a miserable state of cutthroat tension. Even the feed zone reeked with silent hostility, and Junta still remembered the jab of a Hakone student's elbow in his ribs, whether accidental or deliberate, when he pushed through their group to give Arakita his supplies.

For his efforts, Arakita smiled at him; a haunted, empty smile.

* * *

The Inter-high changed him.

It changed them all, really. How could anyone remain unaffected by such a long and arduous tournament? But the results and the aftermath seemed to weigh most heavily on Arakita, who returned to school a shadow of his former self, absent in every way except physically. He still attended practice like before, but now avoided the clubroom like the plague, and ignored his fellow club members indiscriminately; from Shiraiwa to Makishima, no one could keep his attention for long, though he periodically broke through his haze out of a vague sense of responsibility. To Junta, these random gestures of kindness appeared to stem from Arakita's anxiety for the wellbeing of his friends and the first-years, and so he was only moderately surprised when during the first meeting of the fall term, Arakita raised his hand and said,

"One thing before we start, Shiraiwa."

"Oh?" Shiraiwa paused, more curious than wary. "What is it, Arakita?"

"Teshima's birthday," replied Arakita, his intentions warmer than his lifeless tone suggested.

" _Really?_ When is it, Teshima?"

"On the eleventh," replied Junta, his cheeks flushed pink at the idea that Arakita somehow managed to keep track despite his depression.

"Well, then, I guess we'll have a party," Shiraiwa concluded with a smile. "I suppose I can trust you all to do the honors? Since we third-years will be retiring soon…"

"Leave it to us," nodded Kinjou.

"I'll be in charge of the cake!" declared Tadokoro with obvious pride.

"Splendid!" Shiraiwa clapped his hands. "Alright, then, shall we begin? First, about the upcoming cultural festival…"

His words petered out as Arakita raised his hand again. "…Yes?"

"Let Teshima pick the theme."

The others stared at him confused. Arakita frowned.

"His birthday's in September, so let him pick the theme. It's a birthday gift."

Junta flushed crimson this time.

"N-No, it's okay, Arakita-san, I'm sure that the others—"

" _It's fine,_ Teshima..!" Koga tapped his shoulder with a grin so earnest, it made Junta's heart skip a beat. "You're a creative guy. I bet you'll think of something great for us to do!"

"Please do, Junta.." said Hajime in the smallest of voices, and Yaniguchi gave encouraging nods. In the face of such kind entreaties, what could Junta do but surrender with a good grace?

"I'll do my best..!" he scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile. "Thank you for your confidence in me..!"

"So that's settled," nodded Shiraiwa. "Teshima, I expect to hear your proposal next Monday."

" _Yes, sir!"_

As Arakita made no more interjections, they blazed through the rest of the agenda, and when the meeting concluded, Arakita tapped Junta on the shoulder and said in that worn out voice,

"Have fun, Teshima-chan…"

Junta nodded fervently, determined to make the most of Arakita's gift, and so come Monday afternoon, he and Hajime presented the road racing club with a detailed and hand-illustrated proposal for a _Sport Stars Café,_ where the members were to wear different uniforms according to Junta's specifications…

* * *

"A legskin and a jacket…" mused Kinjou, then cracked a smile at the name scribbled next to the design. _"Samezura Academy…_ Interesting! The patterns on the legskin might be a challenge, but I won't give up. Leave it to me!"

Junta hummed, then showed his leaflet to Makishima next, who let out an awkward laugh at his designated sports persona: a green-haired basketball player in an orange uniform, with glasses and taped fingers on his left hand.

"Looks very um, stylish, sho.. What's this? _Shoo..toku?_ Ah, it's a pun, right? From _shoot,_ because he's shooting a basketball, sho…"

"Y-Yes, that's right," Junta rubbed at his nose. "I thought it would look good on Makishima-san, because your hair's already green anyway…"

" _Eh?"_ blurted Makishima, but Junta already moved past him to Arakita, whom he had saved for last as the senior whose approval would settle everything… and so Junta's horror grew all the greater when Arakita blanched at the proposed design: a white and black baseball outfit, complete with a pitcher's glove.

His jaws clenched too tight to speak. Only his eyes moved, darting from the illustration to Junta and back in what seemed to be suspicion, even enmity.

"Arakita-san..?" mumbled Junta, his chest growing cold. Sensing trouble, Makishima glanced at the drawing and let out a strangled sound that finally snapped Arakita out of his stupor.

"A-Ah.. it's, uh… it's really…" he forced out the words, then passed the proposal to Makishima and jerked to his feet. "I need some fresh air."

A moment later, the clubroom door closed behind him. The third-years exchanged confused looks.

"Arakita-san…" breathed Junta. Makishima cleared his throat.

"Um.. Teshima? Can I ask why you picked baseball for him, sho?"

Junta glanced to Hajime, who paled, but stepped forward.

"One time, I saw Arakita-san, down by the Kameishi dam.." he explained in a choked whisper. "He was skipping stones, and with each throw, he wound up like a pitcher would… he looked cool, doing that, so I told Junta he should be a pitcher for the café…"

Tadokoro and Kinjou exchanged looks. Makishima rubbed at his neck.

"Yeah, he.. he used to love baseball, but then got injured and had to quit, so now he kind of hates it, so…"

Junta's heart clenched. His hands curled into tremulous fists.

"I upset him… When he even let me be in charge of the theme..!"

"D-Don't sweat it, sho!" Makishima waved a panicked hand. "I'm sure he knows you weren't messing with him, he just, didn't expect this, sho..! Here," he handed back Junta's proposal. "I'll go talk to him, so wait for us, sho!"

With that, Makishima left the clubroom, too. Shiraiwa shook his head.

"Why does Arakita always have to be the odd one out?" he sighed. "Did he really play baseball? He never said anything about that.."

"He was a prodigy in middle school," replied Kinjou.

"Won an award and everything," added Tadokoro. Shiraiwa whistled, and Junta watched as recognition dawned on Koga.

* * *

In a record five minutes, Makishima returned with Arakita in tow, who twitched to a halt as Junta and Hajime rushed over and bowed deeply.

"Arakita-san, we're so sorry!" blurted Hajime.

"You don't have to wear that if you don't want to! We can—" Junta tried to say, but a gentle tap on his head stunned him quiet.

"It's _fine,_ Aoyagi, Teshima.." he heard Arakita say, calm and even. "Just tell me one thing," he withdrew his hand, allowing Junta to straighten and face him. "All these guys you drew for your proposal look different, and that baseball guy doesn't look like me, so why this guy and this uniform?"

"O-Oh," Junta scratched his flushed cheek. "He's ah, he's an ace pitcher who's very strong-willed and confident, so he reminded me of Arakita-san…"

Arakita scoffed, but he looked more amused than he had in weeks.

"Alright," he shrugged. "That doesn't sound so bad. I might even do that scar under the eye. I'm not doing the hair, though. It's a bitch fitting a baseball cap over a pompadour, you know?"

Beside him, Makishima turned away and snorted into his hand. Arakita quirked a brow, and then seemed to catch a meaning that eluded everyone else, and cracked a small, tired smile. _That_ was not lost on the anxious first-years or the observant third-years, and so the happy fate of Junta's proposal was sealed… and just a few days after his late birthday celebration at the club, something else happened that restored Arakita to his usual pluck and good humor. (Probably his appointment as vice captain. _Probably.)_ With no more difficulties to contend with, the road racing club was free to concentrate their efforts on the cultural festival, where the _Sport Stars Café_ made a highly successful debut, for more reasons than the first-years suspected at the time.

They sold out within an hour: too little time to properly enjoy the service part of Junta's project, where the second-years prepared the orders, and the third-years served them in uniform and - supposedly - in character. Thankfully, the first-years did think of a backup plan, which was to compete against each other in various sports on the small outdoor court behind the main school building, which turned out to be just as fun a main event as the café was supposed to be.

So much happened on that court that Junta hardly knew how to relate it all, so he only told his juniors about his favorite moments. There was a basketball match, during which Tadokoro picked up Hajime so he could experience the pleasure of a slam dunk; a no-ice skating routine improvised by Shiraiwa, set to a classical tune hummed loudly by the third-years; Makishima wielding his tennis racket like a baseball bat, swinging his baseball bat like a tennis racket, and shooting with an underhanded form; the way Kinjou demonstrated his butterfly stroke while balancing on a stool; and how the members of other sports clubs ended up joining the fun.

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

As early as the preliminaries in May, the Youkai's followers were aware that he was on his way to be able to attend the Inter-high, so on the last week of the spring term, Arakita took his Bianche to Kanzaki Cycle for tuning, then placed it in the entrance hall of his dorm building so his followers could hang their omamori on it without attracting the road racing club's attention. He wasn't completely lying about his "fans" either, because he did gain some after the Nagatoroyama Hill Climb. And yes, until the relevant companion piece is out, this chapter is closest look you will get at the taboo second-year Inter-high.

According to the wiki, Teshima likes sports manga, so I decided to make that his starting point for the cultural festival. I did not assign characters to everyone, since I haven't seen or read enough sports manga to do so, but you probably recognized the ones I did: Yamazaki Sousuke (Free!) for Kinjou, Midorima Shintarou (Kuroko no Basket) for Makishima, and Umemiya Seiichi (Daiya no Ace) for Arakita. Shiraiwa's character shall not be named not to throw shade on anyone in the cast of Yuri! on Ice.

If you caught the callback to the very first fic in this series, kudos to you!


	7. VII

"A crossover sports tournament.." sparkled Onoda. "That sounds _amazing,_ Teshima-san!"

"Mannn, trying out different sports must have been so much fun!" cried Naruko. "We should do the same thing this year, Onoda-kun!"

"Uh-uh-uh, no repeats," Junta wagged a finger, but made no effort to hide his grin. "You will just have to think of something equally fun for yourselves!"

"Can I ask where your inspiration came from, Teshima-san?" Sugimoto raised a hand. "Some of those names sounded familiar…"

" _A-Ah!"_ Junta rubbed a furious hand through his hair. "I just remembered one more great memory, about Arakita-san and Makishima-san playing baseball!"

* * *

 _Despite his spectacularly incorrect form and the pending threat of a strikeout, on Arakita's third pitch, Makishima's bat smashed into the ball and sent it into orbit. Arakita's jaw dropped, and for one glorious moment, he became consumed with the excitement of that long-buried passionate younger self._

"Yuusuke! **That's a home run!"** _he screeched._ "RUN, YUUSUKE!"

"Run where, sho?!" _Makishima screamed back._

"Around the base!"

" **Where's the base, sho?!"**

" _AROUND US!"_

" _ **WHERE?!"**_

"AAARGH! **I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!"** _Arakita rushed over and grabbed Makishima's hand._ **"This way!"**

" _ **Right, sho!"**_ _Makishima hurried after him as the others burst into laughter._

* * *

"And that's how Makishima-san scored a home run and his team won the inning," concluded Junta. Beside him, Hajime softly shook his head as Naruko cackled with glee.

"Helping out the enemy just because they were secretly lovers! Arakita-san is _wild!"_ he squealed. Onoda hummed.

"I guess Arakita-san has always been wild, then," he mused out loud.

"And I thought he was crazy when I met him! _Ka-ka-ka!"_ Naruko slapped his knee. "Remember that day, Onoda-kun?"

"Oh? Do I smell an amusing story?" Junta tried for an encouraging smile, but all it did was send Onoda into an apologetic fit.

* * *

"N-No-no, it's n-nothing really, nothing like your amazing café and tournament, Teshima-san..! It was at the start of the term, and we didn't know Arakita-san that well back then, and—" Onoda babbled away for a full minute before Junta's calming chants finally took effect.

"It's alright.. we might get to hear it some other time, then," he smiled. Hajime nodded along, and Onoda seemed to relax just a bit.

"Well, shall we head off to bed?" Junta took out his phone next to dial Arakita's number. "You'll need all the rest you can get for your last day, don't you..?"

* * *

 **END NOTE:**

Sugimoto, an experienced manga reader, almost caught onto Teshima's bullshit. He is a dangerous man indeed. And yes, you guessed it - the next companion piece will be Onoda's (and Naruko's) Bizarre Adventure! Stay tuned, and thank you for reading!


End file.
